Surviving
by yankees545
Summary: A RENT fic inserted into the play between the funeral and Halloween. It's based around Mark and the line "perhaps it's because I'm the one of us who survived" The tense was weird to me so... plot bunny... what if Mark had and lost someone too? Constructive criticism is welcome! Shout-out to my wonderful beta, ullabloom!


I am the one of us to survive

_We've had too many losses _Mark thought to himself as he and the other bohemians began to go their separate ways after Angel's funeral. Everyone he thought he could count on was falling apart in front of him. He found himself walking on autopilot through the cemetery to an area which he hadn't been to in 5 years. He stopped at a grave he never thought he'd be standing next to again. The stone simply said Alexis "Alex" Jones, August 17 1963-November 3 1985, A Beloved Friend.

Tears that had been threatening on and off all day returned with a vengeance. His throat tightened as old memories flashed seemingly right in front of him. Her brilliant blue eyes, short, naturally blond hair and radiant smile as she took a picture of him, catching him completely off guard, an awkward shocked expression memorialized on film. He remembered trying to get the print back from her. She returned it but only after he had agreed to take a photography class with her. Standing at the grave Mark unconsciously grabbed his bag where his camera was stored during the funeral.

Alex's boldness and curiosity had been the catalyst for their budding friendship that only grew stronger as they transitioned from high school to college. They would meet for weekend trips as often as they could afford, armed with their cameras to see what moments they could capture forever. Those outings were some of Mark's most treasured memories. He smiled thinking of the countless hours they spent editing unrelated footage into some semblance of a story. _All good things come to an end… _Mark thought bitterly as the frantic phone call that changed his life played through his mind.

"Mark! Mark! Pick up please! Please be home…." Alex's familiar voice played through on his machine, waking him up.

"Hello? Alex, what's wrong?" Mark picked up with a sense of urgency.

"Oh my god, Mark! Oh my god...I just… they just…"

"Alex! Please, just breathe. Tell me what happened, what's wrong?"

"Oh my god, he's dead. They just killed him. Oh my god! I have to go to the police! I have pictures, but I think they saw me."

"Who is 'he'? Who is 'they'? Never mind, go to the police station, I'll… I'll meet you there. Be careful, be safe."

"Ok. Mark, I'm scared."

"It's going to be ok, I'll be there with you. I'll see you in 15 minutes."

Mark had grabbed his coat and rushed out the door and got to the station in record time. But Alex never showed up. He waited all night. When the shift changed he retold the officers his story. A short while later there was a report of a Jane Doe matching Alex's description found in an alley with exposed negatives stuffed in her limp hands.

Mark had been crushed. They'd had plans. They were going to grow old together. She was the one. Then she was gone.

Over the next year and a half he had alternated submerging himself in footage, editing her -their- story, their dreams, trying to hold on to her and pestering the police to find her murderer and bring her justice and closure for himself.

Mark drew further and further into himself, worrying his family and some acquaintances. He couldn't stop thinking about her! He knew, on some level, that his actions couldn't be healthy so when some of his college classmates asked him if he wanted to chip in and live in an apartment on the other side of the city, he jumped for it. He began distancing himself from Alex's memory. He packed their footage away, stopped visiting her grave and started mending the friendships he had with the people he'd ignored for the past year. He decided to leave it all behind, he was going to run as far and fast as he could. He was going to start over.

It had worked. He enjoyed life with Roger, Collins, Benny, and eventually Maureen. Their group expanded as April joined. Benny left shortly after April died, leaving Mark and Collins to pull Roger out of his depression and get him clean. In the following year Joanne, Mimi, and Angel had joined the group. Angel. Mark didn't know how they'd get through this. Maureen and Joanne were done. Mimi was with Benny. Roger was hurting. Collins was devastated. And Mark was standing at a grave he thought he'd never see again.

They couldn't fall apart. He couldn't let that happen. He _wouldn't_ let it. Mark took a deep breath, brushed Alex's stone with his fingertips before walking with purpose towards the apartment and his first challenge. Roger. Mark wouldn't let him squander the time he had with the people who cared about him and who he cared about. _And maybe… just maybe… that could include me._

_AN: Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, please review! If not, please tell me how I can improve! This is my first venture into this fandom and I don't own anything (other than the idea of Alex...) Again a thanks to ullabloom my beta reader!_


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